


These sins are my own

by Applepie



Category: Naruto
Genre: -or lack of, Gen, Infinite Tsukuyomi, Infinite tsukuyomi turns the moon red, Obito can't recognise Kakashi without his mask..., Obito is the best teammate to have, Red Moon, Time Travel, hidden identity, maskless Kakashi, or at least Kakashi thinks he might be in one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applepie/pseuds/Applepie
Summary: Kakashi can't help but look up in the sky and expect a red moon mocking back at him. He's is stuck in the wrong place, wrong time, in a body too small. What was Obito thinking when he cast this upon him – vengeance or redemption – and does he even want to know? Time-travel.





	1. strangers who know too well

**Author's Note:**

> (a possible but unintentional sequel to ["I Have Seen the World"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952474)) – unintentional because if I'd truly planned it, Kakashi would've kept his sharingan.
> 
> Also, I could've sworn I read somewhere the infinite tsukuyomi turns the moon red, but I can't seem to find that again. Can anyone confirm?

When Kakashi opens his eyes, the world is stagnant and wrong.

This is not where he was last. There is a distinct lack of death and ash permeating the air around him, let alone the fact he was nowhere near Konoha or his old apartment at the time. Yet here he is now, a startling relocation, with no clear reason how.

With a breath, Kakashi draws up his thoughts, though the recollection hurts just as much as ignorance.

His chest aches, and he's suffocating in sudden memories and the knowledge of a world brought to its knees. Nails bite into skin as he wrenches off the mask on his face. But the breath of fresh air does no favours, instead confirms a reality that shouldn't be.

Kakashi _knows_ he didn't imagine it, the Shinobi Alliance, the beginnings of a crumbling nation, and the dead man behind it all.

Obito's face, looking so wrong, wrong, wrong, lingers in the back of his eyelids. A childish face that should've been etched with lines of courage and earnestness was instead marred with hate and malice.

Kakashi had stared, wide eyed, as everything he thought he knew was stripped away by the drop of a white swirled mask.

Obito had taunted, had sneered, and then " _You let them die._ _It's your fault,"_ he'd snarled, from Rin's death to sensei's to the destruction of Konoha and the entire nation. Because Kakashi's incompetence is the toppling pillar that had caused the chain reaction leading to these endless acts of tragedy.

The knowledge had coiled around Kakashi, his body, his soul, his beating heart. Perhaps that's why he can't breathe, haunted by his faults. He's not able to deny anything, not then and not now, especially not with the truth so blatant in a form of a long-lost friend.

Kakashi's fists tremble.

Then he shunts the spiraling thoughts away to the corners of his mind, where it'll sit and fester, but it's safer than confronting the guilt head-on. He has lost years to apologies and once he begins, he'll lose another dozen more, trapped in a habit that ties his soul to the memorial stone.

Instead he settles into Obito's doing, this place that had been brought forth by the unexpected spin of red eyes. He's stuck in a world that is abruptly too big - or perhaps he's just now comparatively too small. He's staring in a room that is fit for his nightmares, full with reminders of the year his life started falling apart; staring at hands so foreign yet familiar, missing the stories carved on pale skin. He's thirteen again, young and perhaps not so ignorant as before, but it's an age Kakashi has long tried to erase from his mind.

Kakashi doesn't want to be here.

Yet, chakra swirl and tug and his yell of " _Kai,"_ bear no results. The world keeps spinning, mundane and peaceful, even though all Kakashi wants is the blood soaked battlefield that had dissolved before his very eyes, halfway through a blink.

His kids are out there, his village is out there, fighting for their lives. _Obito_ is out there, mind warped into something unthinkable, but there were sparks of longing and hesitance underneath the underneath that Kakashi thought, desperately _hoped,_ he saw.

But he's here now because Obito wished it, and perhaps Kakashi had been poorly mistaken.

Kakashi stumbles absentmindedly through the unfamiliar familiar room. He changes his clothes to something more fitting, an abandoned flak jacket sequestered in the back of the closet; but his skin still itches, awkward, uncomfortable, and _wrong_. He's still suffocating, despite the discarded mask on the floor, lying in neglect. There is no physical cause, only mental, and Kakashi doesn't know where to begin to resolve that.

Meanwhile, his body burns with the need to move, because to be still is to surrender, and war instincts seep effortlessly into the bones. It also helps that training lets him feel some semblance of control, much needed in this realm brought forth by Obito.

He _needs_ to stand strong for those depending on him.

So Kakashi slips out the door, silent, no one to share a bid of goodbye. No photographs by his bedside, no Mr. Ukki - nothing but a bland room with no personality.

The world outside shares his mood. Rain patters on the rooftops, falls like tears to mourn his failures and the line of tombstones that follow behind him. He soldiers on forwards despite that, despite his drenched clothing, weighing him down like sin clung on his back. He astutely ignores the familiar sights all around.

He's learnt to carry on, because that is the ninja way, no matter how much he suffers for it.

Is this vengeance or redemption, he doesn't know. He'd never known Obito, had he?

And as he walks, his head tips back to gaze upon the endless sky above. He sees grey when he expects red, and doesn't know what to believe.

* * *

 

Obito spots him on his way home, while darting under the cover of trees to keep dry.

He hears the squelching of mud first, then the _pan, pan, pan_ of fists hitting wood.

Obito is drawn by the noise, unexpected in this cold downpour. There are shinobi who train despite terrible weather, and Obito is spurred by a sudden urge to gaze upon this dedicated soul.

He realises his own ethic is lacking, but he's cold and soaked and water makes his kunai slick and unwieldy. He _tried_ ; that's why he's out here, rushing home, instead of in the cozy warm comforts of his bed and duvet.

The rhythmic hits grow louder and louder.

Finally, Obito skids to a stop, awed, when he's presented with the sight of a unwavering teen, eyes focused on the wooden dummy, looking so young. They're old enough to be teammates, to be rivals of their choosing, but for all his social habits, his identity is unknown to Obito.

He's possibly a couple years younger, judging by the boyish curve of his face. He's mud spattered, hidden behind spots of brown and grim that disguise his face and features. But his hair is soft coloured, possibly grey or light brown, draped limply over his face and neck from rain.

Obito stares.

The teen stiffens.

Before he knows it, there's a kunai pointed at his neck, and he's pulled from casual observer to a protagonist in this play between the two.

There's something familiar about him, perhaps the way he looks at Obito fill with hate and the promise of hurt. He reminds Obito of Kakashi, except Kakashi wouldn't be caught dead without his iconic navy mask to shield him away from the world, and to act as a barrier against anyone who tries to get in too close.

And there is a poignant swirl underneath his gaze that sets the teen apart from his sullen teammate, because Kakashi is made of bitter lines and self-imposed isolation, while this kid is made up of fraying patchworks and desperate resolution.

"Hi, I'm Obito," Obito tries, cautious and hopeful.

"What are you playing at?" is the blunt response.

Obito blinks at the impossible question, and then hedges, "I'm trying not to die by your hands?" Not that he believes Konoha-taught morality and beliefs stray one to dishonourable kills, but there is something sharp and chilling in the teen's stance that whispers to his instincts.

"Where are we?" he demands, ignoring Obito's answer. Obito shots a glance at the hitai-ate tied around the teen's forehead, bearing the swirl of Konoha's loyalty, and then at the whole of their village, noticeable confusion on his face.

"Konoha?" Obito says in a wonder, unless the rainfall has washed him out of his home and to the nation over without his knowledge.

"Why?"

"Because we live here?" he answers, though he's beginning to believe the kid won't listen to a word he says, too caught up in a mystery with obvious answers he refuses to accept. "I'm Uchiha Obito. What's your name?" he tries again. They've been falling into an endless route of the teen's pace, and Obito doesn't want to be stranded out in the rain until his face is flushed red with sickness.

Yet the teen only stares back at him, wide eyes unblinking, until he scrubs a hand across his chin and then looks up at the dreary sky with unusual focus.

Obito lets him have his way, because his hand has finally slackened, kunai no longer pointed perilously against bare skin. "What are you looking for?" he asks instead, eyes stinging with lash-clung rainwater as he follows the teen's gaze.

"Red," is the answer, and it means absolutely nothing.

"Like the sunset?" Obito asks.

"The moon," the teen only replies like he hasn't just named a preposterous phenomenon.

Obito bobs in exaggerated nods. "Alright then, don't let me get in your way." He tries to slip away from the kid's unmoving form, but a firm stare holds him down. It grips tighter than any physical grasp.

The teen's dark eyes follow his outline, as if burning his image into his mind.

"Don't change," the teen suddenly tells him, like sage advice.

Obito frowns at the non sequitur, but he's quick to retort. Having a moody teammate to squabble daily against has conditioned his reflex. "I know someone who would disagree with that," he mutters, prompted at the subconscious reminder of Kakashi.

"He's an idiot," the teen tells him promptly, and Obito _laughs_.

"You have _got_ to meet Kakashi and call him that to his face. He thinks he's so good," Obito says, and once the rant begins, he cannot stop. It's cathartic and familiar, like simpler days, before the war slipped into their lives and tainted all amusement. "Just because people call him a prodigy doesn't mean he's better than me! He's so stuffy, following the _Rules and Regulations_ without thinking for himself. It's just a stupid handbook. Why would I follow a stupid book to a tee."

"What would _you_ do?" the teen suddenly asks.

There is a surprising lack of reprimanding for his blatant disregard of rules taught since Academy school years. Obito doesn't think too hard on the question because there is only one choice, "Whatever it takes to protect everyone."

The kid's hand lifts, and Obito is afraid he'll go for another kunai - because he still never understood why he'd been attacked without reason in the first place - yet it only flutters over his left eye, soft but untouching.

"The rules are wrong. Kakashi is wrong."

"Exactly," Obito agrees eagerly, a sense of camaraderie. "He's such a jerk. I tell him he's wrong all the time, and he never believes me. _Finally_ someone sees I'm right!"

The teen's jaw is set at a grimace, as if holding back truths he'd rather let simmer within his own mind, but when Obito lights up, his facade breaks. Obito will never know how his pure honest face had only so clearly contrasted the cruel image of a future Obito, whose personality had been dented so thoroughly by Kakashi's thoughtless actions.

"Kakashi is a failure who lets his friends down when they need him the most. He's too slow, too weak, too incompetent," he hisses, " _each and every time_."

Obito startles at the conviction. Mocking grievances has become something more. "Well, that's a bit-" Obito begins, uncertain, but his words are too hesitant to make an impact.

"Can you rely on a man who can't keep his promises?" The teen snarls the words out, eyes latched on his own pale, quivering hands, like he expects it dyed in blood and broken bones.

Obito stills, then fumes, anger unexpected but radiating firmly from the pit of his stomach. Kakashi may be stuffy and annoying and his every word makes Obito want to throw a punch in his face, but Kakashi is teammate, and Obito trusts him team with his life.

"He's reliable!" Obito roars back. "He says stupid things and believes stupid rules, but don't think you know him better than I do!"

"Don't I?" the teen scoffs, and Obito doesn't know if that's ringing in his ears or the rain pounding too hard on his head.

"Kakashi is my teammate. He's been my teammate for four years. What do you know?"

Yet to his anger, the teen only stares in pity and heartbreak. His mouth opens to answer, but words are inaudible, caught in his throat. Instead the teen jerks his head off to the side, severing their connection, and that feel of something so familiar Obito has still yet to be able to grasp.

"Shinobi Rule number four: a shinobi must always put the mission first," the teen recites.

Obito's skin feels icy, but that might be from the drenching rain, seeping into his bones while he stands too motionless before the other teen. "You think Kakashi will abandon his team?" he says, and then _he_ _think about it_ and from what he'd said about Kakashi and the Rules, he has no room to retort otherwise. But four years they'd been together, and Obito won't - refuses - to accept the possibility. "Kakashi is a bastard, but I _know_ ," he says firmly, "that he'll do the right thing when it counts."

Then, because he won't stomach it if the asinine kid tries to denigrate Kakashi further, he spins on his heels and strides away, tall and proud, despite the fact he's running from the fight.

" _Never change,_ " Obito thinks he hears the teen say to his retreating back, but he's too angry to care enough to make sense of his peculiar response.

 


	2. things we hold ourselves accountable

Obito gets a full night of sleep, stranded at home while the world outside is washed away with heavy downpour. It's bright and early when he wakes up next, and he dresses eagerly for a rare day his busy sensei set aside for the team.

He spots Kakashi along the way, lost and dazed, nowhere near their booked training ground. It's not early, not late either; yet by Kakashi's own rule, he should be with their sensei, waiting impatiently for Rin and him.

He's watching Kakashi wander aimlessly instead, gloved hands fidgeting at the sleeves of his shirt, readjusting and tugging in uncomfortable motions. Obito, curious, approaches the boy with a courtesy greeting ready on his lips, but his cursed mouth betrays him with a, "Did you gain weight?" as Kakashi continues to move in a fashion like he's stuck in a costume sizes too small.

Kakashi shoots him a look and then all cues melt from his body, and Obito blinks and pretends the thought of misreading his teammate's unease didn't just cross his mind.

"What do you want?" Kakashi says to the stifling silence.

Obito gestures with an idle hand. "Uh, training with Minato-sensei? Did you  _forget?"_ he asks incredulous, because Minato is perhaps the only thing Kakashi cares about, second to training – Obito had four years to observe his teammate well enough to realise that.

Kakashi sways, nods, then swiftly moves out, all in a motion so quick that his expression is lost to the open path and away from Obito's sight. Obito notes then disregards the thought. Then he growls and speeds up, taking lead because Kakashi isn't allowed to cross the training ground before him, especially when Obito is the one who ensured his timely appearance.

Minato is suitably surprised at their twin arrival, side by side like brothers instead of the spitting squabbles that pit them against one another. "Well," he murmurs as Rin rises from her spot, fond grin on her face. "It seems we can start right on time today."

Kakashi nods in greeting as Rin strides over.

"Did you and Kakashi decide to meet up?" Rin asks, sliding to place beside them, slotted so easily and perfectly in the groove dedicated just for her.

Obito laughs in good humour. "Nah, Kakashi  _forgot,"_ and he comprehends Rin's silent apprehension since it's not different from his own.

"Are you feeling alright, Kakashi?" Rin worries, because otherwise is to keep quiet, and while Obito's care for his teammates is full of impulsive words and instinctual actions, Rin is soft and tender and easily lends a sympathetic ear to those in need. "You haven't trained too hard yesterday and caught a cold, have you?"

The reminder of yesterday's downpour sparks a memory almost lost in his sleep.

"Speaking of yesterday, I ran into someone who hates you," Obito informs his teammate. Though nothing of the sort had been explicitly stated, the drenched teen clearly had trouble with Kakashi, quick to endlessly disparage him when given the chance.

Yet Kakashi only gives a noncommittal hum in place of the expected anger, and Obito sulks at the lack of entertainment. Even Minato-sensei's response is acceptable, the way the man's eyes widen and he sputters out a concerned, "What?"

"He called you weak and unreliable," Obito continues to Kakashi's static expression. "Serves you right," he adds, as though he hadn't spoken up and defended his teammate and raged for Kakashi's sake.

"Who was this?" Minato asks, wary.

"A weirdo. He was really interested in the colour of the moon."

Kakashi is calm. He tilts his head up, eyes lidded against the glaring sunlight in a motion that stirs a sense of déjà vu within Obito; though it's a common enough of a motion that Obito doesn't know why his mind files it significant. "What colour  _was_  the moon last night?" Kakashi wonders.

Obito shots him a look that questions his seriousness and sanity. "White," he answers regardless because he  _needs_ to know how he'll respond.

Kakashi only closes his eyes, blind to the reality before him, blocked off intentionally like he was denying the truth of Obito's words. "Ahh," he murmurs. "I thought I saw wrong."

"What colour do you expect the moon to be?" Obito says in ridicule.

Kakashi purses his lips beneath his navy blue mask but doesn't answer, yet Obito can't help but feel that if he had, there would be a revelation he never expected, so glaringly obvious yet inconceivably obscure.

Rin sighs, loudly exasperate to pull the boys' attention away from each other, least they tumble into another typical argument. "Whatever colour, it was pretty, wasn't it? It glowed beautifully after the rain."

Kakashi concedes with a nod. Obito imagines Rin stargazing. Minato gives them all a minute before assigning them tasks.

The day falls back into their usual training regime after that, supported by Minato's watchful eye.

Obito tries to forget Kakashi and the conversation he had with that ruthless stranger in the rainfall, but spars put him in a meditative state that draws the conversation back to him clear and distinct as ever.

So while Minato is busy discussing medical jutsu with Rin, Obito turns to Kakashi, a burning question on his lips. It's a masochistic curiosity because Obito expects he's setting himself up to be hurt, hands trembling as he asks, "If we're rendered defenceless on a mission, Rin and me, would you come and save us?"

Kakashi turns to him, slow but steady. There's a settling silence that curls around Obito's courage and he falters at the lack of response, because isn't that itself telling?

When Kakashi finally speaks, it's nothing comforting, but a detached, "You believe too much in me," that has Obito gritting his teeth and wondering why his heart is breaking since he never had hopes in the bastard's answer in the first place.

But then before he can brush it off, Kakashi dips his head, and there is a "Yes," that sounds out of nowhere.

"You jerk," Obito responses for a lack of better words, because Kakashi should've led with that in the first place, and the only reason he doesn't is because he likes watching him squirm.

Obito will never know Kakashi was recalling their previous meeting and that swift proclamation he had made in Kakashi's place – and of how the (future) Kakashi who'd stumbled upon those exact conditions had wavered in decision when it had been so obvious in Obito's eyes from the get go that he would ultimately do the right thing.

 

* * *

 

The setting sun is a sight familiar to Obito in these recent days, as he races through training grounds, glowing orb cast upon his back.

He surveys each training ground with a second's worth of dedication, to seek out that desired silhouette burnt into his memory, before darting off to the next area to rinse and repeat. It is a wonder how an impulsive hour turned into a day, turned into several, and yet he still stubbornly persists in this futile self-imposed task.

Obito doesn't know why he even bothers.

"You've been looking for me?" a low voice abruptly calls out. Obito startles and stumbles at the unexpected words.

There is only a second for Obito to glance over at him - his whole appearance washed out, coated in the red hues of the setting sun until his features are rouge and difficult to distinguish –; a second before the speaker hops backwards and out of sight, into the shaded grounds that trade his red tones to an impervious black. But luckily, a second is all it takes for Obito to lock on to those dark, weighty eyes that haunt his dreams, and successfully confirm his identity as the teen from under that dreary rainfall.

Still, any sense of relief from finally locating his target is shrouded by exasperation at the teen's swift movements; because Obito wished to fully take in the teen's appearance, now no longer obscured through rain and mud, yet he's given him no chance to do so. Idly, Obito wonders if it is deliberately so.

What is the reason he seems so eerily familiar?

The teen is half missing, lost in the gloom of the trees.

Obito squints and glares and shuffles for a better view, but the teen only makes subtle shifts to proficiently counters his every action, looking so casual and ignorant to the frustration he's causing.

"I hear you've been looking for me?" the teen interrupts.

Obito stills involuntarily.

There is a flash of paranoia from how the teen knows that embarrassing fact, because Obito has certainly not advertised his search. The only victims to suffer his constant complaints had been Minato-sensei, because sensei always gives good advice; and Kakashi on occasions, because he is a silent bastard who sneaks into the conversation like an apathetic ghost before Obito even fully realises he's there. Rin is still ignorant, to Obito's immense relief, because she should never be witness to a scene where he is not portrayed to her as the confident, reliable shinobi he tries to be.

As Obito works through the puzzle – or tries to, at least -, there is a low rumble from the direction of the teen. It draws a sudden fear that he'll leave in impatience before Obito can fully express everything he needs to say to this elusive figure, so he throws the irrelevant mystery out of sight and out of mind, to cry a hasty, "You're wrong!" to still the other teen.

"So you  _haven't_  been," the teen replies, without a change in tone, yet capable of sounding so skeptical.

Obito frowns, blinks, and rewinds their exchanged sequence of words, then promptly blushes and scrambles to regain control of the situation. "No," Obito says, just as quickly, "I mean, 'no', I  _am_  looking for you – not 'no', I'm not looking for you. But also, you're wrong," and then wonders if his words made any more sense.

The teen's silence is telling.

"About Kakashi, I mean," Obito continues, because someone has to, and the teen appears willing to just watch Obito make a fool of himself. "You were wrong about Kakashi. I asked him. You were wrong," Obito says firmly, and that's not relief in his tone – because to be relieved means he'd  _doubted_  and Obito most surely had not. "I  _told_  you I knew him best."

Yet to Obito's certainty, the teen only seems indifferent.

"You were searching for me for  _Kakashi's_  sake?" the teen asks instead, the tremor in his voice speaking too strongly of incredulity for Obito to not bristle visibly before him.

"Yeah, so what? What is your problem with Kakashi?"

"I have no problem with him."

" _Sure_ ," Obito scoffs. The teen does nothing to rebut or support his claim of otherwise – not that Obito expects him to, but the lack of defense still rankles. "What did Kakashi do? Did you lose a spar with him? Don't be such a sore loser," Obito says, rather childishly, in a manner not dissimilar to one picking a fight. Though it's half for his own sake, because he's had his share of loses and if anyone has the right to rage at Kakashi for that, it's Obito, not some nameless teen.

The pause in between is lengthy, as though the truth is better off unsaid, but in the end the teen concedes with an answer, admitting softly, "It's not what he did. It's what he didn't do."

"What? He didn't talk to you? He didn't hang out with you?" Obito presses, because these are all typical of the loner known as Kakashi, and Obito thought all his peers were well aware of those facts. "When was this?" he continues, drawn into curiosity, because how long does it take for minor annoyances to fester into the brew of hate that has this teen lashing out at his teammate like so?

The teen's silhouette shifts and wavers, and it's harder to spot him now, with the sun already nothing more but an edge peaking over the Hokage Mountain. "Soon," he says reluctantly, while Obito scoffs at the teen's effort to sound cryptic and profound.

"You don't like Kakashi because of something he hasn't done … in a future that hasn't happened." It is a wonder why the teen doesn't just skip the tragic lies and admit his ire stems from no real reason. So, in spite, he adds, "I bet Kakashi is right not doing it," and hopes Kakashi never finds out he's saying positive things about him, because that's not how their relationship works.

Chakra spikes. Obito jumps and reaches for his weapons reflexively, yet the teen doesn't move an inch. " _It's not_ ," the teen's voice suddenly growls, and it's a vicious tone of anger and anguish that coils Obito stock-still. There's a phantom coldness on his neck – an echo from the danger of their first meeting – that has Obito reassessing his decision to seek out this temperamental teen. "It never should have happened. But he couldn't manage to- He let them die-"

Then Obito is burning from inside out, the fire red of the sunset backdrop consumed into his soul. "' _Let them die'?"_ he cuts in, because there is a limit to slander. "Did you even listen to me? We've been over this! You're wrong. I told you you were wrong. Kakashi won't let his teammates die for a stupid mission, for a stupid rule! He told me so himself!" His temper builds quickly once more, cutting off that nagging feeling deep within that whispers he's missing something important about the teen before him, but Obito feels justified to just rage than to decipher the insanity.

"What does it make Kakashi if he won't but still does?" the teen asks pitifully, a calm in Obito's storm.

"Then he's a hero because he tried his best and life isn't fair," Obito huffs, and tries not to consider the teen suggesting Kakashi  _deliberately_  failing to save them, because Kakashi is not one to go back on his words, and some stranger will not be the one to try and convince Obito otherwise.

And also, Kakashi,  _fail_? As much as Obito loathes to admit, when has Kakashi, that hailed genius, been unable to accomplish the shinobi arts to the point of perfection? "Are we even talking about the same Kakashi?"

The teen stares mutely between several breaths.

The night is upon them, the crescent moon replacing what was once red. Emotion drains from the teen's posture, as the sky pulls away the whole of his focus - though if the sight is to the teen's satisfaction, nobody knows.

"I don't know. Which Obito am  _I_  talking to?" he finally says, but it's less in doubt of the figure before him, and more in a silent confirmation of a fact Obito isn't privy to.

"How many Obito's do you know?" Obito mutters moodily, as the teen stares at him in silence.

Obito swears the teen's hair reflects  _silver_  this time from the ethereal glow of the moon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi's ever changing hair colour confuses Obito. It was brown (from mud), then red (from the sunset), now silver (from the moon – no, that's a lie, it's always silver. Obito, realise already!).
> 
> This time I didn't purposely plan for Obito to rage defend Kakashi again... it just happened! All I planned was for a second meeting between Obito and maskless!Kakashi and then Obito went and got mad on his own. Not that he can complain - Obito started it this time, haha.
> 
> I swear, this fic is indulging all my Obito headcanon (personality-wise, at least).


	3. just have a little faith

Moonlight shimmers over Kakashi's silver hair, as he's sat by the window sill, chin cupped in hand.

A melancholy sigh drifts across the room as Kakashi wonders how he'd missed all of these signs Obito exudes from his body, the first time around; this staunch, unrelenting trust Obito has for his teammates. Kakashi doesn't think he could've said the same when he was thirteen - not until it was far too late and Obito had already substituted him beneath falling rocks.

Yet Kakashi hasn't done anything as drastic, nor given any indication he is anything but a social recluse.

Still, Obito believes. Not to Kakashi's face, of course, because they're boys, and matters of emotions and feelings are hidden behind layers of subterfuge in order to seem like the strong dependent men they pretend to be. But it's there for anyone willing to give it a glance, and maybe that's why Minato had never doubted the growth of his team, because Obito is there trying and trying, and sooner or later it  _had_ to rub off on Kakashi.

Yet Kakashi had been so blind, doing no justice to the title of prodigy they label him as.

Their bond, which could've been so fierce and unyielding, was absent because of a teenager who thought the world was out to get him, who crushed any hope of a building foundation between them in an attempt to save himself.

Kakashi mourns for the loss.

With careful motions, Kakashi pulls the hitai-ate off his forehead, cradled in hands too small and pale. Though it's not the anticipated item, it's a suitable substitute for cracked orange goggles sequestered in an apartment that no longer exists. That pair is gone, unable to be treasured properly and preciously with the care it deserves, but perhaps that's for the better, because the clean,  _whole,_  version is perched on top of a mop of raven hair, used for its true purpose once more.

He closes his eyes, breathing a controlled even, hands curled around the headband on his lap.

In the silence of the night, Obito's firm declarations echo in Kakashi's mind once more, words Kakashi adds to the list to live by. It's right there beside Obito's  _nindo_  and Obito's lesson to cherish friends over static rules, because Kakashi's life had been grey and drab until Obito recklessly bursted into it and taught him how to truly live.

He knows better than to disregard Obito's rare words of wisdom these days.

It doesn't mean it's still not jarring, this blunt, steadfast faith Obito has in him, when Kakashi can't feel the same for himself. Perhaps he had, once upon a time, but that all dissipated into smoke and ash as friends and family slipped through his feeble grasp.

So maybe Obito  _shouldn't_ , because he's shown no results but provide constant additions to the growing list of names carved onto the memorial stone, and become the ultimate cause to the end of the world. Yet the undeniable fact Obito does, pulls something warm and soothing in Kakashi's heart; fills up the hole that unheard apologies never managed.

A small, wistful smile blooms without his knowledge.

Sometimes Kakashi wonders if perhaps, maybe,  _possibly_ , he'd been wrong all this time; that the future Obito who constantly plagues his current nightmares isn't all that much of a stranger compared to the Obito he once knew. Though Obito's trust in Kakashi may be buried under layers and layers of hurt over the years, it was never lost completely – it can't, for something that strong.

Maybe Obito is still Obito, underneath it all, and maybe Kakashi  _hadn't_  mistaken that glimpse of his – their, Team Minato's – Obito underneath the malevolent being he'd become, and this isn't a nightmare he's forcing Kakashi to re-enact; rather atonement in the only way possible. There's only so much ' _sorry'_ s can do to bandage the countless families and dreams he'd destroyed, and while  _time-traveling_  is a bit of a drastic act, he doesn't expect anything less from Obito.

Kakashi pushes open the window to swing up and perch precariously on the rooftop, to bask under the illuminating moonlight blanketing over the whole of the village. The moon is still effulgently white, despite repetitive checks, and will continue to be so a dozen checks more.

Kakashi wonders if it is alright for him to hope.

 

* * *

 

Training without Minato is a boring affair, and more often than not Obito finds himself alone as he and his teammates opt to practice independently. It's not that they prefer it, not Obito at least, but it's easier to schedule when the need to worry for everyone else's plans is not tying them up.

Today though, Obito has Kakashi with him, working on a jutsu he can't master without assistance. His first choice had been Rin, but she had been busy with her own list of projects – somehow he didn't expect Kakashi to agree.

Yet here they are now.

"Your Horse seal needs adjusting. The rough transition from Horse to Tiger is throwing off your control," Kakashi is saying, oddly civil, with the air of someone familiar with the ways of instructing shinobi. Though the idea is preposterous because a solitary person like Kakashi doesn't talk to others unless forced otherwise, let alone interact enough to accumulate the experience of a teacher.

Still, "Uh, yeah, okay," Obito replies, amenably deciding to give Kakashi's advice a chance, because why would he steer him wrong when they both realise that the sooner Obito masters the jutsu, the sooner they're free from each other's presence? Then he's momentarily amazed at how effective the small tweak alters his results. "How did you know that?"

"Logic," Kakashi utters, short and unhelpful.

Obito rolls his eyes and studies the other teen for clues of his knowledge, not that he knows what to search for.

Kakashi, though, quickly reverts back to his usual behaviour under Obito's intense scrutiny. "If you're not training, I'm leaving," Kakashi says brusquely, looking ever so ready to do so.

Obito scrambles to regain focus. His pride is already suffering from the need to plead for Kakashi's assistance, and he refuses to undergo it once more.

The morning passes quickly after that.

It's a long time later before Obito's mind wanders yet again.

Kakashi appears distracted. There's a hush in him, as he observes Obito's progress, that feels incongruous and sacred. Obito finds himself staring blatantly back just to trace to the cause of the anomaly, Kakashi's threat be damned; because say what you will about Obito's ability to observe in battle, this is his teammate and Obito is dependable in matters of friends and family.

Yet, even he never expects the sudden recognition that creeps into his mind, flaunting so obvious before his very eyes that Obito would've noticed sooner if Kakashi hasn't been attempting to fade into the background so often lately, trying to escape as a player of their world in this game of life.

Obito's mind sputters to a halt, fingers crossing into the wrong signs. His jutsu explodes to stars in his face, but ignored in favour of the startling deduction.

"You have got to be kidding me," he mutters to himself, and try as he may to dismiss the notion, further observation only hardens the fact.

"What?" Kakashi says when he finally deems Obito's wordless stare too long and uncomfortable.

Obito takes his word as an invitation. He drops his hands from useless, half-hearted, half-forgotten seals and faces him resolutely. There is an uncertainty of how to breach the issue, but his impulse is tried and true. "Hey, let me see your face," he demands to his teammate, rather than anything subtle.

Kakashi reacts to his sudden request with a blink and a frown, deflecting with a, "It's just a normal face," like typical, so Obito goes for normal as well.

"Liar! You wouldn't have it covered if it was, so show me."

But then Kakashi glances at him, fleeting, and with the smallest hint of subconscious disappointment that has Obito wishing bantering with Kakashi wasn't so easy to fall habit to. Though it does solidify the certainty that he indeed knows what he thinks he knows, because those eyes echo an image of a nameless teen Obito thought he despised like an unworthy rival.

"I've already seen it, haven't I?" Obito asks abruptly, and it's more of a statement than anything.

Kakashi sighs, then shrugs in a gesture that's short and useless and can be taken either way. But Obito  _knows_ , and refuses to be shaken into doubt.

"Why didn't you  _say_  anything?" Obito roars to overpower the rushing blood to his cheeks. Because Kakashi had ample opportunity to tell him while Obito had been floundering about, seeking out that formerly anonymous teen, but he ignored all occasions to do so. "Don't think you can lie your way out of this! I know it was you."

There is a low rumble that distantly reminds him of a chuckle, low and heavy from between Kakashi's breath. "I haven't lied about anything," he only says in response and Obito remembers that night under the pour of rain once more, and those vicious words the teen had directed at Kakashi – at  _himself_.

His emotions ebb numb under his skin.

The expected anger at Kakashi's concealment of identity doesn't burst forth, or at least it's ephemeral, because there'd been no hidden agenda to pull Obito into a trap of illusions and tricks at his expense. Obito himself had been nothing more than a catalyst, unknowingly slipped into that role when he first stumbled upon a solitary teen drowning under heavy rain. He  _heard_ Kakashi and he knows there had been nothing mocking in his tone.

"You idiot," Obito says, in reflex, only to pull up memories of Kakashi calling himself one, along with so many other self-belittling words that had Obito's fists aching to lash out, and  _he_ spent four years trading daily taunts with Kakashi.

Kakashi's mouth opens.

"Shut up," Obito interjects, before Kakashi can get anything in – to agree or deny, whatever his words, Obito will not let them free from their confines, because he has a feeling he knows which choice it'll be, and it's the last thing Obito wants to hear.

But he still does, because Kakashi is never one to follow his orders. "I deserve that," he says with a brittle laugh that ages his boyish countenance decades more. Worse yet, he sounds relieved at Obito's abuse. There's something about him, so full of sorrow and regret, that stirs emotions deep within the confines of Obito's soul.

"You can't say that, that's  _my_ job," Obito argues.  _He's_  the only one allowed to insult his teammates,  _even if_  his opponent is the person himself. "You're not supposed to just accept it!"

"Mmmm," Kakashi agrees mutely, mostly to humour him.

Obito has a feeling the Kakashi who is filled with penitence and weaknesses is his true form, seen where it's no longer concealed behind masks both literal and figurative. He is bitter, curled up in an animosity that stems from himself, and it is nothing like the strong, apathetic loner Obito had always mentally branded him as. It's worrying and disconcerting, and tilts the world off its axis.

Obito stumbles over his thoughts from this bizarre navigation, and words slip through before he means it. "You're not the Kakashi I know."

Kakashi regards his statement considerately, wiry smile on his lips. Then he actually  _responds_ , though his answer is nowhere near desirable.

"You don't want the Kakashi you know," he tells him, and Obito approves even less. While his previous words had been hostile in his constant belittling of his own skill,  _this_  is pure rejection of his entire existence.

"At least that Kakashi does things for a reason. You scorn and hate and deny facts for some stupid delusion. That Kakashi may be a bastard but I trust him because he trusts himself," Obito argues, frustration taking root – except Obito is not certain whether it is in regard to Kakashi's baseless words, or Kakashi's inability to understand why Obito doesn't approve.

"He's also liable to let you die," Kakashi adds, and maybe Obito is the one at fault for disassociating the current and past Kakashi due to the striking personality differences, but that is no reason for Kakashi to do the same and transform their discussion to one reminiscent of arguments when his identity was still unknown.

"He  _is_ you!" Obito cries out to the madness.

Kakashi acts as though he doesn't hear. "-and lead the shinobi nation to war and its demise," he continues, and while unnecessarily melodramatic, Obito wonders if this conversation has a purpose other than making him thoroughly confused.

The only message Obito can unearth from these convoluted talks is that Kakashi has an unhealthy lack of belief in himself, and unafraid to convince others of its false truth. Kakashi seems eager to push them away, to appear unreliable and unworthy, despite Obito's knowledge otherwise.

Obito wants to proclaim this development as recent, except the hatred seems tainted into Kakashi's very soul, like it has been feeding on his emotions, smoldering, for a long, long time. It is equally remorseful and horrifying to realise he had never detected such a monumental thing until now, because it's grown into something so deep-rooted and tumorous that Obito fears will never wash out.

Worse, Kakashi doesn't even wish to try. "Just so you are aware," he only finishes, with a flimsy smile that hurts to witness, before falling silent as if accomplishing his penance. He's treating Obito like a mute stone statue, to confide his soul's black truths – and seems so natural doing so.

But Kakashi has forgotten one thing: that Obito  _has_  a voice and is none too shy to use it.

Obito growls under his breath.

"Damn it, Bakakashi," he snaps at last, words slipping out without a plan. "If you can't love yourself, we'll do it for you – Minato-sensei, and Rin, and me. We'll love you so much it'll hurt and you'll have no one to blame but yourself for being so self-deprecating and stupid." The words are crude, nonetheless so very true.

A frown mars Kakashi's face, like the concept is so foreign, and perhaps, him undeserving.

But that is Kakashi's problem, not Obito's, and he'll just have to learn to accept it.

"The moon was white again last night, by the way," Obito adds before he can interrupt, because though he doesn't understand the significance the colouring of the moon holds to Kakashi, he does know Kakashi needs it and it's something he can readily supply.

Kakashi studies him, startled at his goodwill, but Obito said, didn't he, that he would flood Kakashi with his love?

Kakashi stretches his neck back to glance upwards, though it's more in habit because the sun is out and it's impossible to verify Obito's words when the moon in question is nowhere in sight. Still, Obito lets Kakashi do as he will, because he's a patient, caring friend.

It's a little while later before Kakashi returns his eyes to the world of the living, blinking stars out of his sight, but face stoic as ever.

"Don't believe me?" Obito sulks, and it's partly teasing, partly dejected, because it's not like he expects Kakashi's attitude towards him to change in under a day, but the least he can do is have a little faith in him.

But then Kakashi looks over, posture relaxing, and Obito feels Kakashi is finally looking properly at him this time, without the unseen ghosts that pull constantly at his attention. His eyes are no longer subconsciously shuttered close.

Obito's guard lowers. " _Do_  you believe me?" he can't help but probe one additional time, though his heart is palpitating in his chest, wondering if he's pushing this budding friendship too hard.

Kakashi's expression, however, is soft in all the right places. "Yes, I do," he replies, like it's simply fact. "Thank you."

…Then to Obito's unsuspecting gaze, he hooks down his mask and grins earnestly, just for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if that 'mute stone statue' line called up the thought of the memorial stone to anyone? I was trying to go for Kakashi treating him like memorial stone!Obito instead of alive!Obito.
> 
> Aaaand I'm finished. There wasn't a time-travel reveal, but there was an identity reveal, so good enough :)


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